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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23260240">The Voice of the Rain</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmayaNoAkatsuki/pseuds/AmayaNoAkatsuki'>AmayaNoAkatsuki</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods &amp; Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Medieval, BAMF Haruno Sakura, BAMF Hyuuga Hinata, Betrayal, Demigods, Dragons, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fantasy, Gods, Huns, Kingdoms, Kings &amp; Queens, Love Triangles, Multi, Māori, Priestesses, Princes &amp; Princesses, Romance, Samurai, Spartans, Strong Haruno Sakura, Warlords, Woman Warriors, powerful female characters, warrior culture, warriors - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:13:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23260240</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmayaNoAkatsuki/pseuds/AmayaNoAkatsuki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If my story will be told in a thousand years, let them say I walked with Giants.  Let them say I killed the King of Kings and beheaded dragons.  Let them say I conquered Kingdoms with an army of Ghosts.  And let them say I had fallen in love with my enemy.</p><p>War is never about war.</p><p>["Oh, how your kingdom will fall when you come to find that your discarded pawn was the Queen after all."]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Haruno Sakura/Nagato | Pain, Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto, Konan/Nagato | Pain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Voice of the Rain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Alright, so this is an old story that belonged to my brother but he never got around to finishing it, so it's been left up to me to do so.</p><p>As you may have noticed, it has several romantic pairings.  This story is specifically a Pein/Sakura/Sasuke story with strong appearances of Naruto/Hinata as well as loose mentionings of others.  As for the setting, its in its own time; it will incorporate various ideas and customs of different historical cultures such as the Huns, the Maori, the Spartans and the Samurai, with a hint of magic. I really do hope you enjoy it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was raining.</p><p>The firmament wore an armor of silver on this day of mourning, with ornamental blurs of black ink curling within itself for show. The moon no longer shone for them, and Tsukiyomi hid her face behind blue-black wisps, leaving behind the terrifying shadows of demons with her distaste. The heavens mourned for their tarnished ground, their tears cleansing the terra of those poor, fallen souls who lingered within the sea of corpses, and the earth's mother held her labored breath. She was fearful.</p><p>It was absolutely <em>breathtaking</em>…</p><p>There were some things in life that were just too beautiful for the eyes of mere humans, and for the touch of even the purest of mortals. They were cursed beings, poisonous to the true splendor of the earth. Even those so-called priests and priestesses who bathed themselves in the daily blessings of the Gods were undeserving of such unrefined majesty. Life's beauty came hand in hand with its transience, and those foolish creatures dared let nature's magnificence fall between their unappreciative fingers like sand.</p><p>The Gods <em>longed</em> to view such purities in life, and thus created mountains in the likeness of Izanami and birthed roses from the breath of Konohanasakuya. Even Susanoo and Ohoyamatsumi generously gifted calm seas full of life, they felt so inclined. And yet, humans did little to cherish their gifts. They burned cities and brought an end to life, toppled the trees that created the emerald forests—all in the name of pitiful men tainted green with greed. They destroyed all they touched, and it made the Gods angry. How could someone destroy something so precious?</p><p><em>He </em>was sent to the world by the Gods themselves to prevent such atrocities, to judge and punish and reward as they saw fit, and to bring balance to this tilting existence.</p><p>"Pein."</p><p>Hearing that voice—that beautiful, melodic voice—made his skin rise in bliss. There was an angel there, smiling at him, caressing his cheek amongst the ruin he had created. She had been given the name <em>Konan</em>, after the small landscapes to the south, and was his gift from the Gods, meant to watch over him, guide him, <em>adore him</em>, even in his shallowest of slumbers. The Gods blessed her with willowy hair the color of shobu flowers and eyes like endless pools of the world's sweetest honey, and snowy skin that no artisan's powder could ever duplicate. Her cheekbones were high, like those of royalty and unmarred by blemishes; her lashes were thick, their color darker than obsidian and accentuating the feline-like slant of her eyes. And her lips, plump and soft and pale—and marked as his own by a little jewel.</p><p>He had seen and lied with many women, but her beauty was rivaled by no one's.</p><p>Pein finally addressed his angel with a slow nod, silvery eyes meeting her own golden ones. Her hand, so warm, so soft, rested upon his cheek, thumb pressing gently against the corner of his pierced lips as she offered a smile. His heart fluttered.</p><p>"You are victorious yet again."</p><p>The desire to laugh, to sneer—<em>because of course he was victorious</em>—nearly overwhelmed him, but he allowed only a hum escape his lips. In all the years of his life, he had never lost a battle. He fought demons and banished spirits, and beheaded the unruly eight headed serpent of the far North—he had fought an entire army alone and won. He was unconquerable like the mountains high above the Rain Kingdom, with songs of his gallantry sang over ale and campfire. Many have tried to best him and all have failed; it was foolish for one to think they could defeat a God, after all.</p><p>Instead of speaking of his amusement, his arrogance, Pein leant into the warmth of her palm, allowing her palm to feel a slight pressure from his lips. A hidden kiss.</p><p>"Gather the troops," He murmured, his lashes falling over his cheeks as the rain cleansed him. His hand encompassed her dainty wrist just so the tips of his fingers could feel the heat of her skin, then he pulled her away. "Tell them to gather all the treasures they wish."</p><p>Konan bowed at the waist. "Yes, milord."</p><p>"Take anything you want," He encouraged, softly. "Do not hesitate. Everything here is mine, and what is mine, is yours."</p><p>There was a light in her eye at his statement. Her smile transitioned from pleased to impish as she managed to take her lower lip between her teeth; her look stirred a heat through his loins. "Thank you, milord," She purred, already sauntering away with a provocative sway in her hips. Inwardly, he thanked the Kami for their never-ending kindness.</p><p>He was gifted the name of Pein, son of Hachiman the God of War and of a mortal priestess. He was sent to the earthly world to fight against the impurities that made the spiritual balance waver, and Konan was his dearest angel, the love the Gods sent to protect him. For her, he would destroy mountains.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>Voice of the Rain</strong>
</p>
<hr/><p>It was dawn when the priest's bells chimed.</p><p>The morning was warm, weighty with a shuddering breath of welcome that growled where sleep bore purchase. Sunlight dappled through the stained glass and threw mysterious images of blossoms and ravens against the walls; and Amaterasu's fingers gently caressed her dearest children with their awakening. The maids rose from their beds in a rehearsed manner, their expressions neutral with only the slightest lift of their pink lips for display. They dressed in their uniformed robes of white and gold, and embellished their necks with golden chokers—as if belonging to royalty.</p><p>Their beauty never once hindered their sense of responsibility, however, as their minds followed the pursuit of municipal pleasure.</p><p>A faction of maids departed from the collection of two hundred and hurried through the southern wing of the palace, to the Guard's Ward, pausing only for the armored sentinels to lift the fringe-gates of the corridors. When the guards opened the final door at the end of the hall, they quietly made their way through the bedchamber, pausing before bowing their heads. One maiden, dressed in silks of green, came to the edge of the bed and carefully brushed her fingers against the cheek of the woman tethered to slumber beneath the blankets.</p><p>Her name was Haruno Sakura, exactly like the blossoms flowing from the intertwining curls of branches during the mid-spring. She was a precious woman whose gift of unorthodox beauty made many, if not all women envious, much like her mistress Tsunade, the Sage of Slugs. The Gods so adored her, they gifted her the traits of spring. Her eyes were framed by long lashes, and their color swam with shades of green and blue, like the deepest plunge basins. Her hair was a shade akin to the softest petals of flower of the same name, and flowed just past her shoulders in ringlets, and her skin stole the iridescence of the moon and proudly bore the faint scars of battle. Like the rain, she never dithered, and encased all around her with her nurturing essence. And on the battlefield, she danced like young leaves in the wind. With the axe the Kami blessed her with, she parted flesh and spilled blood, and her fists were said to have made mountains crumble. Despite that, no matter how difficult the battle, no matter how stained her blade would rest, Sakura always smiled in the midst of the sea of souls, offering prayers for those clutching the last of Izanami's golden thread, for she was kind like that. She brought out the storm in people, because she knew there were dark skies and wild winds, and she braved them without hesitance.</p><p>One day, she would be deemed fairest in all the kingdom—maybe even beyond it.</p><p>She fought alongside Uchiha Sasuke, heir to Orochimaru, the Sage of Snakes, and son to one of the most prestigious clans of their kingdom. He was handsome like the rest of his clansmen, gifted the qualities of winter and blessed by good blood. His skin was like snow—pale and without faults, chiseled by the Gods themselves. The color and fashioning of his hair reminded one of the wings of a raven, and his eyes were cold and dark, like the ominous void between the barren trees. Like the winter storms, he was vindictive and impetuous, and owned a voice of pure ice which sent even the mightiest of warriors into unforgiving shivers. There was chaos in him, a fire that those with his blood could never let flicker, and a little gentleness if one looked closely enough. There was a predictability in his unpredictability. He moved swiftly in battle, like a stormy wind with his sword, and he could pierce an arrow through a boar from a field away.</p><p>Together, they fought beside Uzumaki Naruto, heir to the Toad Sage, Jiraya, and son to one of the most noble warriors in Konoha's history. He was given the gifts of summer, just like his father. His hair was like the noontime sun, golden and striking as it messily spiked around him, and his captivating sapphire eyes were like the marbled sky on it's best day. His skin was warm like the beaches of the south, and radiated with a heat that could be felt even steps away. He was stubborn and quick tempered, unyielding no matter the adversity to the point he bordered annoying, while his smile promised affection to even the lowest of creatures. Even in war, he could grin and warm the hearts of adversaries over camp stories, but stood impenetrable with his shield before him. However fearsome his talent with fist and sword were, his true weapon was his kindness, as nothing was more unsettling than a warrior who looked upon every being with a smile.</p><p>Together, they were deemed Sannin—a faction of legendary warriors destined to lead their kingdom. They were viewed as royalty amongst the entire nation and feared for their constant victories, and one day, the three would be Princes and Princess, and then Kings and Queen.</p><p>
  <em>They were unstoppable.</em>
</p><p>Viridian revealed themselves to the morning, bright and alert. With a body weighted by fatigue, Sakura forced herself from her bed and swung her legs over the side, lips upturned only slightly. "Good morning," She softly greeted.</p><p>Not a single chambermaid could resist smiling in return, and gently, they chorused, "Good morning, Lady Sakura."</p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>Voice of the Rain</strong>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>A silken face…and eyes like the largest pearls…a beauty like no other…</em>
</p><p>The reflection in the mirror stared back at Hinata without fault.</p><p>Her hands lifted, allowing her fingers to brush against her cheeks. She swept her fingers over her nose and below her eyes where silver welts coursed, and leaned closer to her glass as if to catch inconsistencies in her image. Her eyes were the same—like the finest pearls—and her silken face stared back at her with the same pursed lips. And yet, the face that gazed back at her, was not quite her own. She could not see herself as she usually did, and this image before her was a jaded copycat embellished with makeup. She was rumored to be the work of the Gods, known to be the topic of envy—a woman desired by even the meekest of men, but she could not see it. That title was not hers to own.</p><p>An exasperated breath fell past Hinata's painted lips as she took in the reflection of her mirror. She had been told too many times that her hair reminded one of oceans, and that her skin resembled the flicker of the moon. And any man who swept his gaze upon her would feel his skin burnish with his desires, but very few would dare chance a second or third glance. Denizens acted as if flowers would sprout from where she walked, and men would profess their feelings through gifts and even rarely, words.</p><p>A humble accolade, she supposed, but she never did care for them. She didn't care for any of it—the lavish lifestyle, the restrictions and honors—anymore. She wanted more than the pretty face and the compliments that were relayed like music. She wanted to <em>be </em>more than that. Her wings were cramping as her cage enclosed around her, and she was sure it would be too much for even the Gods to bear.</p><p>"Are you well, Sister?"</p><p>Hinata glanced at her sister's reflection; the younger girl, nearly identical but with stronger features, wore a concerned expression. "Yes. Thank you for your concern," Hinata recited, layering a smile that did not quite reach her eyes.</p><p>While not completely believing her sister's response, Hinabi did not comment further, but returned to brushing out Hinata's hair in silence. It would be uncouth of her to prod any further.</p><p>Hinata's eyes lowered to her lap, taking in the patterns of her gown as her mind wandered. Eyes like seawater floated into her thoughts; they were alight with love and adulation, toned with respect. And then images of hair, gold like the sands that glittered along the beach followed, unruly and boyish just like the man who bore them. He had a smile as warm as a summer's day and a personality to match. He was never afraid of adventure or anything of the sort, protecting the village valiantly and displaying his scars with pride. He laughed as if everything, even the smallest things, brought him joy, and loved everyone as if they were his own. He spoke as he wanted, and embarrassed himself without fear. He was everything she wasn't.</p><p>There were so many men who had asked for her hand and showered her with gifts upon gifts, but none were as wonderful as <em>him</em>. He was everything she wanted, as well as the only thing she couldn't readily have.</p><p>When the heart falls for one it cannot have, it falls the hardest.</p><p>A knock broke the silence between the sisters.  Hinata softly called out her permission, trying to reign in her anxiety by busying her hands with her makeup.  She listened to the opening of the door, to the footsteps that padded along behind her, but didn't glance at her approaching her cousin until his reflection appeared in her mirror.  She leant closer to the glass, tapping the powder brush against the rim of the jar, making the loose pigment swirl in the air, then began to generously sweep it onto her neck.</p><p>"Your presence has been requested at the castle, Lady Hinata," Her cousin, Neji informed.  He was a man of average height, with fair skin and eyes so similar to hers, although his eyes bore a steel that mirrored his sword.  She was stunned to find that he had forgone his armor—a rare occasion—cloaking himself in robes of beige and silver, and had bound back a portion of his gorgeous hair with an elaborately decorated shu fa headpiece.</p><p>Hiding the shock that jolted her heart, Hinata glided her brush beneath her chin. "Will you be joining me?" She asked, praying he would say "yes".</p><p>Luck smiled at her in response, for her long-haired cousin gave an affirming nod.  “Yes.  Lady Hanabi will as well,” Neji said. “Your father asks that you are dressed accordingly, as the King wishes to speak to you directly.”</p><p>Lines formed between Hinata’s brows at that.  “Do you know what about?”</p><p>“No.  But please hurry to dress.  Your father is adamant.”</p>
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